


Crescendo

by Ria_Trevelyan



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Kink Meme, Loud Sex, Love Confessions, Prompt Fill, Semi-Public Sex, Tent Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 05:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3517718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ria_Trevelyan/pseuds/Ria_Trevelyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the secretive nature of their relationship leads to a misunderstanding about the romantic availability of the Inquisitor, Solas and Mina must deal with the emotional fallout while trying not to be too obvious about their true feelings for each other.</p>
<p><s>Un</s>Fortunately, that plan fails rather spectacularly. </p>
<p>ALSO KNOWN AS: The story where loud, smutty tent-sex is had. Earnest love confessions are made and Dorian and Bull might be the best friends a girl could ever have -- even when they're kind of being assholes about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crescendo

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a fill for _this_ prompt on the kinkmeme: http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/13429.html?thread=51812725#t51812725
> 
> Unfortunately I do not think I lived up to enough of the request to really call this a fill -- more like an inspired work. 
> 
> Hope the OP enjoys it anyways.  
> ;p

He’d said it didn’t matter, and like a fool Mina had believed him. 

It hadn’t seemed like too much of a stretch at the time. Solas was always confident, self assured in his opinions and magical skills. Insecurity did not seem like something he would be particularly plagued with -- nor did jealousy. And yet…

Ever since she had gone to see Cullen, to talk to him about their _professional_ relationship. To make sure he understood that he was getting the _wrong_ idea. Ever since the Commander had misinterpreted her trepidation and smart-ass comments as flirting and actually _kissed_ her. 

And -- perhaps most importantly -- ever since they had been interrupted by one of Cullen’s soldiers and the rumor that the two were involved in some illicit affair had begun to spread like wildfire through Skyhold. 

Ever since then:

Solas was acting strange. Cold as ice one moment, overly attentive and friendly the next.  
Then someone would make the mistake of mentioning the Commander, and, well; Jealousy seemed like an understatement of the emotion. Her lover was normally so level-headed and rational about everything. To see him so worked up over a silly misunderstanding and a two second kiss seemed almost a bit silly. 

Mina thought she was making too big a deal out of it, imagining or exaggerating his agitation. Seeing what she wanted to see because if he _were_ acting so out of character it might mean this relationship was as important to him as it was to her.

Or she would have thought that, if Solas hadn’t accused her just that morning of leading the _‘handsome human’_ on (his words, _not_ hers); and if he hadn’t started putting distance between them.  
_More_ distance, that is. 

Still, when she brought it up directly he claimed it didn’t matter, that he _trusted_ her.  
Not like that was turning out to be complete and utter _bullshit_ , or anything.

Of course, he’d said it didn’t matter that she was human either. Honestly, Mina should have known better. One of the first things he had ever said to her had been an insult to her skill and intelligence. 

“Far beyond the experience of any Circle mage.” he had said. Condescendingly.Right to her face...  
Mina had been pretty sure she hated him then. 

Now here they were, almost six months into a _secret_ relationship. The time they got to spend together, being intimate with each other was already considerably limited. Always within the confines of the fortress walls, never during they day while servants and spies were wandering about. They didn’t even show eachother open affection around most of Inquisition, and even then it was hardly anything that could be considered on the innapropriate side of friendly.

_‘Friends with Benefits’_ would almost be a more appropriate than _‘Lovers’_ if it weren’t for the way he held her afterwards. For the words he whispered in elvish as he entered her, the meaning lost but the tone transcended language, reverent and smutty all at once. 

Mina couldn’t help but wonder if they would ever have those moments again now. 

Being on the road together was always difficult, their already sparse moments together even further limited by the constant presence of their traveling companions and the complete lack of privacy around camp.  
Right now it was downright unbearable. 

And intentional or not, their companions seemed determined to poke and prod at the wound until it festered.  
The first day on the road Dorian spent the entire morning waxing poetic about how gorgeous their Commander was. Loudly speculating how much better Cullen would look out of his clothing, or perhaps clad in nothing but his magnificent pauldrons.  
Mina tried not to stare openly at the way his words made the muscles in Solas’ jaw clench, the way his fists were clenched so tightly that the veins in his arms stood out against his skin.

And though a small part of Mina _thrilled_ at the warning signs, knowing it meant at least that he still cared for her. A much larger portion of her mind reeled. Either Dorian was purposefully prodding this or he really thought she was interested in _Cullen,_ of all people--- which, just _wow._ Mina really thought he knew her better than that. Not to mention the fact that this was only aggravating the damage between them...and while there was a _chance_ that this would drive them to a confrontation and therefore a resolution (meaning they could return to a blessed state of normality); It seemed _far_ more likely that it would only increase the friction between them, effectively killing the sham of a relationship they'd previously had. 

Back at camp that night she tried her best to corner Solas and talk it out, but given their supposed lack of a serious relationship, and his determination to avoid her; Mina was ultimately unsuccessful. Eventually she gave up and retreated to her tent, wondering as she curled up in her bedroll if this was how their unconventional courtship would meet its end.

Unsure all the while whether she was more glad or sad she’d never actually gotten around to confessing her love for him.

By the time Mina finally fell asleep her face was wet with tears, though she was reasonably sure she’d kept quiet enough to avoid disturbing the others.

The next day had both Dorian _and_ Solas were sending her confused and concerned looks; though Bull hardly seemed discouraged. He picked up right where his boyfriend had left off the day before. This time painting lewd pictures of what they (meaning she and, urg, _Cullen_ ) must get up to in bed. Though Mina managed to effectively shut him up when she suggested it was a little insensitive to joke about playing ‘naughty mage and noble templar’ to someone who had actually _been_ in that situation.  
In response he’d just given her a good once-over and shrugged. He did stop pressing the issue afterwards, though.

From then on it was just small, catty comments….mostly from Dorian.

On and on and on they went. 

Until Mina just couldn’t take anymore.

“I am _not_ sleeping with _Cullen!”_ she finally burst out.  
A little too angry for a response to lighthearted teasing, and either Bull caught onto that or his weird spy mind zeroed in on her chosen phrasing because his eyes narrowed and he immediately pounced.

“No, we were wrong about Cullen then, but you _are_ sleeping with someone. Anyone I know, Boss?”

_‘Yes, he’s about two feet to your left; and currently not managing to act **nearly** as nonchalant as he thinks he is.’_

_‘I believe you’ve met Solas?’_

Out loud she says: “And what about you and Dorian, hmmm? You pry into my personal business, I’ll pry into yours.” and the subject gets dropped yet again.

\--------------------------------------------------------------

The fourth night they’re too exhausted to make the return trip to the actual Inquisition camp. Luckily it’s happened before, and after one night spent shivering in a cave with no real shelter, warmth, or supplies the lesson had been well learned. 

Now they always carried a couple of emergency tents (small but serviceable), enough rations for a day or two, and a bundle of kindling to start a decent fire. 

In short, they would make do. 

Except.  
This was the first time since Bull and Dorian had shacked up together that Mina had taken this particular group out. And apparently, there were a few things she had failed to take into consideration.  
Mainly, that since there were only two tents, and since those two were sleeping together anyways, it shouldn’t have come as any big surprise that they wanted to...well, _sleep_ together.

It was just the implications she found unpleasant. Since it meant Mina would have to spend a whole night snuggled up next to Solas in incredibly close quarters. Trying to convince herself not to reach out and touch. 

Instead of dwelling on it she attempts to sidestep the issue completely and insists on bathing first. _Alone._ Thinking that perhaps she could be asleep by the time Solas dried himself off and finished his jerky. 

No such luck. 

Mina felt the surge of warm spirit magic as Solas cast his wards around their ramshackle camp and immediately her shoulders tensed. 

_‘Relax’_ she tried to convince herself, _‘You’re acting like it’s over, or there’s been some sort of awful fight. Everything’s fine. He’s a little jealous, you’re a little lonely. In a few days we’ll be in Val Royeaux and maybe if you play your cards right you can steal a few kisses at the inn.’_

She feels his magic withdraw as the spell ends, and adrenaline floods her system as the soft thuds of his footfall approach the tent. 

_‘Try not to be hysterical. Please.’_

Or maybe, just maybe, he’ll take pity on her tonight and just break it off. It’s hardly what she _wants,_ but….

But Mina doesn’t know whether she wants to go on like this either.  
She loves him, and if _this_ is all they are ever going to have. Well, better to end it now, before she falls in any deeper. Isn’t it?

The tent flap pulls back and Mina feels the small gust of air and rustle of fabric as Solas strips down and settles into his bedroll. The smell of the herbal soap he uses fills her nose and Mina shifts uncomfortably in response; memories of the baths they’ve taken together flooding her mind and forcing her to rub her thighs together discreetly to relieve the building pressure. 

He _usually_ sleeps _naked._ Even on the road.  
If she were to reach out for him now, would her fingers find bare flesh? Or would he change up his routine just to discourage her; the same way he always calmly deposited her hand back into her own lap when she got frisky under the tables at mealtime. Unwilling to risk discovery even when she could feel him swelling under her palm.

_Maker_ , she is never going to survive this night.

Just the steady sound of his breathing and the warmth of his skin so close-by makes her body practically sing for him, heartbeat fluttering in her chest despite the fact she’s supposed to be falling asleep. 

Can he tell how tightly wound she is now, feel the charge of her lust in the air? Already Mina is becoming self conscious, convinced that he can somehow tell how depraved and desperate she is. Surely he will be able to smell her arousal soon, if she doesn’t calm herself.

Beside her Solas shifts under his blankets and rolls towards her. The small and innocent movement evoking a small gasp from Mina before she can stifle herself.

_Damn._

“Inquisitor?” he says, nothing but naked and genuine concern in his voice. Her title, not even her name. 

_Double damn._

“Is something the matter?” an innocent question, but his actions don’t match. 

Solas presses his body closer to hers, untucking their blankets with two quick pulls so he can press against her, the searing heat of his cock nestled against the curve of her bum. Arm draping itself across her waist, hand coming to rest teasingly on her lower stomach. 

Mina feels all rational thought fizzle out. All questions she should be asking lie dead in her throat as he exhales steadily against her oversensitive skin.  
_This_ time she manages to swallow her reflexive whimper.

“You seem troubled.” It’s unfair how _normal_ he sounds, though now that she knows to look for it Mina can hear a tense undercurrent in his words, along with a small dash of amusement. At her expense, of course. 

During any one of their normal rendezvous she would moan for him and roll her hips, refuse to let him keep the upper hand. But this…  
This situation is _anything but_ normal, and Mina finds herself more than a little scared that any real action or reaction on her part would snap him out of it and scare him off. And since she _never_ wants this to end…

Mina manages to choke out a suitable response for his question. Nothing wrong, a lot on her mind. Something like that.  
The actual words are inconsequential. All that matters is her voice remains steady even as his hand kneads at the bare flesh of her thigh, pulling it back over his own. The motion opens her up to him, nothing but the thin fabric of her smalls and her sleep shirt between them. 

She _needs_ to see him.  
To _see_ the look in his eyes, to _know_ that his is effecting him as well. Funny, one would think the hard length of him pulsing against her skin would be enough, but it isn’t lust she’s worried about.  
Mina knows he wants her body, she’s more concerned about what he’s _feeling._

The twist of her neck is awkward, but more than worth it to see the shine of his eyes in the dark, alight with affection and just so, so... _inhuman._  
And wow, had Mina never thought _that_ would be a quality to turn her on.

He ducks his head slightly to kiss her, and Mina revels in the seal of his mouth on hers. She moans freely and Solas swallows each and every one eagerly. Taking advantage of her distraction to slide his hand beneath her knickers, breaking away from her mouth to hiss a foreign curse as he feels how slick she’s become.

_“Solas…”_ Mina breathes his name in response before she can stop herself. Biting her lip as he strokes her clit surely with one finger. They have done this dance before, and he knows the steps like he knows the fade. Better, even. But it never, _ever_ gets old. 

Every single time he touches her it feels like this. As intense as the first time, only more practiced. A point he illustrates beautifully as he dips two fingers down to slide over her entrance, never dipping in for more than a breath. His thumb starting up a maddeningly slow rhythm drawing circles around her clit. 

_“Quiet, Vhenan.”_ he practically hisses, trailing sloppy, open mouthed kisses along her neck. _“We will be heard.”_

_‘I don’t **care.** ’ _she thinks, mouth dropping open in pure ecstasy as he thrusts the slick head of his cock against her arse. Grunting almost too audibly against her pulse point as he slips between her cheeks.

“Truly?”  
Pride surges through her at the shaky timbre that permeates his speech, quickly drowned out by a rush of dread when she realizes what that question must mean..  
_‘Shite.’_ she’d said it aloud. Well, if it makes him stop, too bad. It was true. Though if Mina is reading his tone right he really sounds more _amazed_ than upset.

“You do not care if the agents of your Inquisition hear you copulating with an apostate _elf?_ A man over fifteen years your senior?”  
_‘Copulating?’_ she thinks dumbly. That should not be a sexy word, but the way his lips look as he says it, the heated lilt of his voice.  
It sends a fresh wave of desire roaring through her. 

“Why would I? -- ah!” too loud, shit, too loud.  
“--and what about you? Ashamed for the others to know you share your bed with a _shemlen?_ ”

It’s the only elvhen word she knows, and then only because the Dalish elves attending the conclave had hissed it at her as if it were the most vile of racial slurs.  
Solas doesn’t even flinch.

“I already told you, emma lath, I am _not._ ” He nips her sharply on the neck, probably for being foolish; but the last thing it feels like is a punishment.  
And she can tell by the way his hips jerk against her that he likes it just as much.

“I thought -- mmmn -- I thought you were _lying._ ”  
She gets another bite for that, and for a moment Mina actually swears she feels the vibration of a growl against her skin.  
“Still kinda do.” she gasps out. Disappointed when she doesn’t get the sharp pinch of teeth she expected in response, just the softest press of lips against the mark Mina is _sure_ he’s left. 

“Then I must endeavor to disabuse you of that notion. _Vhenan._ ”

That word again. It can’t possibly mean what she hopes it means, but the way the elvhen language flows from his lips sends more blood rushing between her legs; clit so stiff and sensitive his touch burns even brighter.

Mina drops her head back to her makeshift pillow and bites down to silence herself, hips rocking desperately between his hand and his cock. As much as she wanted to savor this contact with him there is _no way_ she can hold out much longer against his onslaught without alerting the others to their scandalous activities. She needs to get herself off quickly, before she completely loses control and becomes too _loud._

Frantic to please him as well, Mina reaches her arm back to touch. The actual details are non-existent, there is no _plan,_ she just needs to feel his skin under her fingers. To hear his voice.  
Uncoordinated, her hand cups the curve of his skull and pulls him blindly closer, nails scraping across the skin there and slipping. It’s a complete accident, but her body arches and her fingers brush solidly down the point of his ear and everything intensifies…

\--- Solas lets loose a low, guttural moan against the skin of her shoulder. The noise of it echoing sinfully against her ears. There is no _way_ the others could not hear that, but right now it only makes her keen emphatically in response. _Maker, he sounds so **good.**_

Desperate to hear the sound from him again she drags her fingertips sloppily across the tender flesh again. Delighting in the way it makes him lose control. His fingers falter in their steady rhythm against her, sparks of electricity jumping against her cunt.  
It stings, but stimulates her nonetheless. The knowledge that she actually made him -- _him_ \-- of all people, lose control of his magic only adds to the heady sensation; dragging her kicking and screaming over the crest of the most violent orgasm in her life. 

Mina thinks she hears herself ~~scream~~ call his name, but the roaring of her own pleasure through her ears drowns it out. 

_‘I love you.’_ she thinks, the feeling swelling in her heart as the lust bleeds out and his come begins to cool where it splashed against her lower back.

Mina isn’t quite fool enough to _say_ it, but she repeats those three words again and again in her mind, for emphasis. 

This is almost literally the furthest from the proper time and place they could find for such a confession. Honestly, if they want to get any sort of comfortable sleep tonight they should really start cleaning themselves up, but…

But she can feel the unsteady rise and fall of his chest against her back, the slowing beat of his heart; and Mina cannot bring herself to move.  
“Think they heard us?” she says instead, because if she allows herself even another _moment_ to bask in this afterglow she is going to blurt out something they’ll both regret.  
A light pressure on her arm encourages Mina to roll over and face him, and the warmth she reads on his features makes her tingle in a completely new way.

Mina can almost feel those three treacherous words rising back to the surface. But, surprisingly, Solas beats her to it.

“Ar lath ma.” 

For a moment her breath catches in her chest. 

It would be too easy to let this go. To pretend it means what she wants, but to never question. To never push for more from him, for commitment or a confession she can actually _understand._

_No._ That will **not** be her life.

“And what does that _mean_ , Solas?” Mina tries not to sound too forceful as she rolls him over, straddling his waist and bringing them eye to eye, leaning over him, hands planted firmly to either side of his head. She tries to keep her tone playful and inquisitive, but the added combination of her frayed nerves just makes it sound _catty._  
“In _trade._ ” she adds, just to clarify.

A tense silence fills their tent, broken only by the sound of an approaching storm outside. Wind picking up, a crack of thunder through the night sky. Solas looks so vulnerable right now, expression more open and unguarded than Mina has ever seen it. So many emotions there: sadness, longing, fear, loss. 

Then he blinks, and his expression is composed once more. 

“It means that I am in love you.” he finally says, meeting her eyes unflinchingly. It sounds almost like a challenge, as if he expects her to react poorly to the news. She should probably say it back now, put any insecurities he might have at ease; but the pure joy shooting through her right now steals her breath and her words away.

So she kisses him instead. Hungrily exploring his mouth and swallowing his contented groan. 

Meanwhile: _‘He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.’_  
Mina’s thoughts have coalesced into a single stream of consciousness.

Solas’ bottom lip is plump and swollen between her teeth as Mina nips him there, raising her hips just enough to slip the half-hard length of him inside her. Clenching her inner muscles as she undulated her hips against him, all but purring when the action coaxes him back to his full girth within her. She starts up a steady rhythm in time to the thrumming beat of rain outside of their tent. 

Mina rises and falls over him, not even trying to muffle the sounds of her pleasure when she pulls back to watch his eyes, the pleasure of this moment written clearly on his face. The slapping of their sweaty bodies together is already loud enough; either the sounds of the storm will drown it out or it won’t. Right now, Mina couldn’t possibly bring herself to care about what the others might think or assume. She is simply too caught up in the feeling of his flexing forearms pinned down by her hands, the almost invisible smattering of freckles across his chest that she cannot see in the dim light of their tent, but that she _knows_ are there. The way Solas --

Suddenly the soft howling of the wind breaks into a loud roar and the gentle music of the rainfall transforms into a pounding war ballad. Mina scrambles off of Solas in surprise as the heavy, wet, weight of their tent collapses over them; stakes ripped straight from the soggy ground by the gale. 

Her heart is racing within her chest in stark contrast to the disappointment and ache of having her orgasm denied. And then she hears them…  
Despite the cacophony of the storm Mina can still catch the amused, howling laughter of Bull and Dorian that breaks out from their nearby tent. It’s hard to tell over the ambient sounds but Mina thinks there might actually be a little bit of applause mixed in. She covers her face, humiliated -- and next to her Solas barks out a mirthless chuckle.

“Excellent performance.” the altus cries, voice breathless with amusement.  
“10 out of 10 boss.” Bull adds before the two collapse back into their ridiculous guffawing.

Mina really wants to light them on fire right now. 

They would probably be fine if she did. The rain would put them out quickly enough.

“I can probably shield us with a barrier long enough for us to get the tent upright without catching cold.” Solas whispers, sounding resigned as he leverages himself into a sitting position beside her. 

“I love you” the words are rushed out, panicked as her hand shoots out to circle his wrist. It’s important that he hears this before they fix the tent, before he has an impersonal moment to lock himself away from her again. “I love you.” she repeats, “and it’s probably best if we don’t send personalized letters to the Orlesian nobility but I don’t want to hide it anymore. I mean, maybe, because of my position we’ll never dance together at a royal ball; but I _refuse_ to let a title and the petty prejudice of my followers to keep me from holding your hand or waking up beside you each morning. Not for _one. more. day._ Understand?” she finished, breathless, grip on his wrist so tight her hand is beginning to cramp.

She releases him immediately, eyes falling nervously to her lap. 

“If that’s...is that alright with you?”

Mina has to wait barely one whole second for a response.

“It is more than I ever expected.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.” he teases.  
_‘Smart ass.’_ she thinks.

Then they’re kissing again, pushing awkwardly at the soggy fabric to keep it off of them as they grab desperately for each other. Finally, the whole situation becomes too silly, and Mina pulls back with a grin and an ecstatic giggle on her lips.

“Did you hear that?” she calls out, fingers searching along the collapsed ceiling for the exit. 

“Yes, fabulous, you’re very much in love. I’m sure we’ll all be glad we don’t have to pretend not to know about everything going on between you two anymore. Now hurry up and fix your tent. The sooner you get done with round two the sooner I can finally get my beauty sleep.”

“What Dorian means is we’re happy for you, Boss.” Bull adds as Mina and Solas scramble to reconstruct their fallen tent, “and that next time we’ll be packing ear plugs.”

The blush that results from his words makes Mina’s face burn. Of course, all that secrecy and sneaking around for nothing. Leliana must have found their fumbling attempts at discretion laughable.

When they’re back in the safety and warmth of their combined bedrolls Mina questions whether or not this whole incident with Cullen might have been a ploy all along -- an intentional move by the ex-templar made specifically to push the two of them closer together. 

She voices her theory aloud, thinking foolishly that her lover might appreciate her attempt at cleverness...

And Solas just shakes his head and laughs.


End file.
